


i want you to (unravel me)

by easyluckyfree45



Category: Archie Comics, Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Betty is a hot Catwoman, Drunken Shenanigans, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingering, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Jughead is Batman...sort of, Light Dom/sub, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Smug Jughead Jones, Smut, Spin the Bottle, in which Jughead kisses someone who is not Betty because of said bottle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:14:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27210280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easyluckyfree45/pseuds/easyluckyfree45
Summary: “Hi Betty!” Midge says excitedly. “How are you?”“I’m good, thank you--”“You just have to tell me -- is he a good kisser? I love Moose but I’d be lying straight through my teeth if I told you I've never about hopping on that train.”“What--”“Of course, now that you two are together, I’ll keep my thoughts to myself. But I expect details, Betty. After all, I’m only human.”“Midge, what on earth are you talking about?” Betty asks, setting down her red solo cup. This is why she has never tried to befriend Midge. She is way too excitable for Betty to keep up with.“Jughead, of course! Moose told me you two finally got together! I was trying to find Jughead to confirm, but he was looking broodier than usual. Still hot, of course. Also -- love the couples costume! Catwoman and Batman? Adorable.”or, when Betty and Jughead coincidentally dress up in a couples costume, they discover the night has a lot more tricks in store (and maybe some treats)
Relationships: Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 57
Kudos: 155
Collections: 8th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees





	i want you to (unravel me)

**Author's Note:**

> Jana: the BIGGEST thanks to lisa ([moons2stars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moons2stars/pseuds/moons2stars)) for making a gorgeous moodboard and for betaing -- you're a gem, darling, and we appreciate you <3
> 
> Janet: AHHHHH IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING!!! So excited to have FINALLY collaborated with Jana on this. It was a long time coming. I echo Jana's thanks to Lisa for her constant support with this one. You're the best, love!

She’s too sober for this. Her stupid cat ears are giving her a headache, her bodysuit is too tight, and the mix of Stonewall and Riverdale High students means more body heat. Veronica has left her in favor for her boyfriend, Reggie, and Betty knows that she won’t be back anytime soon. Other than a couple people Ronnie had introduced her to from Stonewall, Betty doesn’t really know anyone here. Reggie is much better at easily fitting into crowds, especially at parties; he’s in his element here. One would think that prep school students would be more interesting, but the majority or Veronica’s friends were painfully dull.

Except, maybe, Jughead Jones. 

Veronica’s best friend at Stonewall had slowly but surely become one of hers too. He lived in Riverdale, just like the rest of them, but had won a scholarship to the school in his freshman year. She vaguely recalls seeing him in the hallways during their middle school years, but she was all wrapped up in Veronica at the time to really pay much attention. 

Betty’s known him for three years now, having met him as soon as Veronica decided to befriend him a week after starting at Stonewall herself. Veronica had insisted that her two best friends needed to be best friends as well. Both her and Jughead knew better than to defy Veronica Lodge. 

Their friendship wasn’t always smooth sailing, though. Jughead takes pleasure in picking on Betty, and Betty loves to bait him, but she connects with him in a way she never has with anyone else, not even Veronica. It doesn’t hurt that he’s the most attractive guy she’s ever met in her life.

She knows he’s here somewhere, but she’s not so desperate as to actively go looking for him. She glances around the room often, hoping to see his signature crown beanie pop up from the crowd, but she hasn’t yet.

She’s leaning on the kitchen counter, slowly sipping the cheap beer when a petite girl with a pixie cut comes up to her. 

“Hey, Midge,” Betty greets. 

Midge is dating Moose Mason, Jughead’s roommate. She’s nice enough, but Betty has never thought about getting to actually know her. 

“Hi Betty!” Midge says excitedly. “How are you?”  
  
“I’m good, thank you--”

“You just have to tell me -- is he a good kisser? I love Moose but I’d be lying straight through my teeth if I told you I've never about hopping on _that_ train.”

“What--”  
“Of course, now that you two are together, I’ll keep my thoughts to myself. But I expect details, Betty. After all, I’m only human.”

“Midge, what on earth are you talking about?” Betty asks, setting down her red solo cup. This is why she has never tried to befriend Midge. She is way too excitable for Betty to keep up with.

“Jughead, of course! Moose told me you two finally got together! I was trying to find Jughead to confirm, but he was looking broodier than usual. Still hot, of course. Also -- love the couples costume! Catwoman and Batman? _Adorable_.”

Betty opens her mouth to respond when Veronica strides over to them, waving excitedly. 

“Betty! I’ve missed you. Where have you been?”

Midge excuses herself, winking at Betty as Veronica wraps an arm around her shoulders. 

“How many glasses have you had, V?”

Veronica slaps her shoulder aggressively, making her wince. “You think I’m drunk? How dare you!”

Rolling her eyes, Betty eyes the top of the room for a flash of dark hair. With her heels, she can easily spot Reggie across the room. Bonus, it looks like he’s talking to Jughead. 

He doesn’t have his beanie on; no wonder she couldn’t find him.

Dragging Veronica by her arm, Betty marches them both to the pair. Reggie’s eyes widen as they come closer, and he rushes to grab Veronica from her arms.

“Oh my god, Reggie! I _know_ you!”

Betty giggles as Reggie places her onto a couch. A low chuckle next to her alerts her of Jughead’s presence. 

Midge was right; he’s barely dressed up. Snug black jeans and a plain black t-shirt with a yellow Batman logo. Suddenly, she feels self conscious of her outfit. The material molds all her entire body, her curves on full display, leaving little to the imagination. 

“You look good,” he murmurs. 

Betty blushes, tugging the zipper of the bodysuit slightly up. “Thanks, you too.”

He laughs. “I do, don’t I? This isn’t even my shirt, It’s Reggie’s.”

“I should’ve guessed. I’ve never taken you for an action movie type of guy,” she shoots back.

“Oh yeah? What type of guy did you take me as?”

It’s really not fair that he’s so handsome. Even in a simple black t-shirt, he’s got her all worked up. She’s about to respond when Cheryl shouts from the middle of the room. 

“Everyone to the middle! It’s party time at Chez Blossom!”

Groaning, Jughead turns to Betty. “Betty, my savior. Let me spill fruit punch on you so we can escape to the kitchen and not take part in the typical high school student behaviours.”

Betty snickers. “You? A typical high school student? Never.”

He glares at her, taking her elbow and leading her over to the edge of the circle. His touch is gentle but firm; yet, she starts to feel warm all over from it. She sits on the couch and he perches himself on the arm next to her. His hand is playing absentmindedly with the curls of her hair, and Betty hopes he can’t feel how tense she is. Her cheeks flush red and she tries her best to look anywhere but at him.

“I’m thinking...spin the bottle,” Cheryl broadcasts.

“What are we, five?” Jughead replies loudly, earning a glare from the host.

“For that, Jughead, you can spin first,” Cheryl says smugly, handing him an empty beer bottle. 

He sighs, rolling his eyes and sending a hopeless glance at Betty. She smiles uneasily back at him. She’d never admit it, but her attraction towards him is much deeper than his good looks. He’s one of the few people her age that she can truly talk to and connect with. He has excellent -- albeit, slightly pretentious -- taste in movies and music. He also has a biting wit and humor that she finds alluring. 

It also doesn’t hurt that he’s really freaking sexy.

She’s only just realized all this a couple of weeks ago, and has been avoiding him ever since. Ignoring his calls and responding late to his texts had been fairly easy, but once she starts to indulge herself in him she can never seem to stop. She’ll readily admit to herself that she hopes the bottle ends up pointing to her. 

He motions for Betty to move down the couch, dropping down from the arm and settling down beside her. His arm, the one that isn’t holding the bottle, rests alarmingly close to the exposed skin of her shoulders. She closes her eyes and inhales deeply, attempting to calm the overflow of her nerves. She can feel his heat on her skin and the press of his jeans against her thigh. Everytime he moves, she can feel it. They’re unbearably close.

“So, I just spin it right?” he asks, snapping her out of her stupor. “Any tips you’ve got for me?”  
  
“Uh,” Betty says dumbly. “It’s all in the wrist.”  
  
He nods, grinning widely at her. Her heart warms, and she sits back as he leans forwards to twirl the bottle.

She sees the scene in slow motion, almost as if they’re in a movie. It spins once, twice, three times before slowing to a stop. The room erupts in hollers as Betty’s eyes follow top of the bottle to...Reggie Mantle. 

She looks at Jughead, expecting to see an uncooperative look on his face, but he’s smiling brightly, a playful gleam in his eyes. It’s contagious, and she finds herself laughing and clapping along with the rest of the students. 

Reggie and Jughead are good enough friends, so she’s sure it won’t be awkward, but she is interested to see how comfortable they are with each other. She feels the weight of the couch dip beside her and an arm slings over her shoulder. 

“Betty! Have you heard? _Your_ boyfriend is kissing _my_ boyfriend!”

Betty turns to Veronica, slowly prying the red cup from her hands. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she says in response, the annoyance starting to creep into her tone. Veronica laughs loudly, catching the attention of the irritated teens around them. Betty brings a finger to her lips, trying to quiet Veronica down, but Veronica takes her finger from her mouth and waves it around.  
  
“Oh, Betty. For as smart as both of you are, you sure are dumb.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Veronica starts to reply but is cut off by cheering. Betty shoots a look at Veronica, letting her know that their conversation is not over, but her best friend is already leaning forward, entranced by the act of her boyfriend about to kiss another man. 

Jughead and Reggie have crawled into the middle of the circle, the bottle resting between them. Betty winces when the flash of someone's phone is suddenly pointed towards her, moving her head away from the light. 

Jughead leans in, eyes closed. Reggie has an amused expression on his face but he inches closer to Jughead anyways, tilting his head slightly. The room has quieted down to chittering and phone sounds. Slowly but surely, Reggie tilts his head towards Jughead’s lips and then they meet and they’re kissing. Reggie’s large, calloused hands weave into Jughead’s dark locks as he deepens the kiss. Betty thinks she spots a flick of his tongue entering Jughead’s mouth as she watches, stunned and entranced.

It’s really hot. Like unbearably hot all of a sudden.

Seconds pass, minutes even, and they’re still kissing. To Betty’s right, Cheryl clears her throat and claps her hands together loudly.

“Okay plebeians, that’s enough saucy goodness for one evening. You may return to your respective positions,” she directs.

They break apart, eyes still closed as the room cheers around them. Jughead grins, patting Reggie on the cheek as they both move backwards. Reggie, to join his football friends, and Jughead to Veronica’s now vacated seat beside her.

These feelings are completely foreign to her. She’s grown up hearing that public displays of affection are not proper -- courtesy of her mother. So, to see two people make out like that with that much intensity is different, jarring, and dare she say, intriguing. It’s gotten her all hot and bothered. She adjusts in her seat, crossing her legs as Jughead settles in beside her. 

Their bodies are touching again. It feels electric. 

“Quite the kiss,” Betty says, trying to spur the conversation.  
  
Jughead turns to her. “Yeah,” is all he says.

“Was it any good?” she tries again.  
  
“Yeah,” he repeats. 

She blinks rapidly, furrowing her eyebrows. This dull conversation with Jughead is unusual. Even when they’re talking about the most mundane things they never have this lull in conversation.

“Betty!” Cheryl calls to her. “It’s your turn.”  
  
Betty shakes her head. “No thanks, I’ll pass.”  
  
“You can’t pass,” Cheryl says haughtily. “Just spin the damn bottle.”

Sighing, she avoids all eye contact with Jughead as she reaches forward to grab the bottle from Cheryl’s outstretched hands. She crouches in front of the couch, leaning forward to spin the bottle. 

It’s a really bad spin. It only goes around the room once before stopping right in front of her again. 

The room is quiet.

“I can’t kiss myself,” Betty says. 

Cheryl tilts her head and licks her lips, eyes flicking behind Betty with a devious gleam.

“But you can kiss Jughead.”

Betty turns to see Jughead already staring back at her, blue eyes piercing her green. She’s thought about this before -- kissing Jughead. Most recently last night, in her bed, slipping her fingers into her shorts and imagining his hands on her, his skin against her own.

She brings herself out of her thoughts before she goes too far. Jughead is still looking at her, eyebrow quirked up. 

“Are we doing this?” he asks.

She nods numbly before she can talk herself out of it. Jughead pushes himself off the couch, crawling towards her with ease. She attempts to move back, but the couch is directly behind her, pressing into her back.

She’s trapped. Physically, at least. She can’t decide how she feels mentally. 

She avoids Veronica’s gleeful look from across the room, instead focusing on the blue of Jughead’s eyes. He’s looking at her darkly, lids hooded. It almost seems like he wants to do this. To kiss her. 

No way. Not possible.“Alright losers, get on with it,” Cheryl droles out in a bored tone. “We don’t have all night.”

Betty turns her attention back to Jughead. He’s leaning in slowly, a lazy smirk on his face. His hair is still mussed from his kiss with Reggie. She feels herself leaning in too, it’s as if her body moves on its own accord. She’s not complaining. Every second her lips are getting closer and closer to Jughead’s. She closes her eyes softly as their lips meet.

It’s not fireworks. It’s more intoxicating. Lust filled. 

He slips his tongue into her mouth and she lets him take over, sighing into his mouth and bringing her hands to the nape of his neck, playing gently with the baby hairs.

“Jesus, you heathens.” Cheryl forcibly breaks them apart. 

Betty blinks her eyes open, glancing over to Jughead who looks as dazed as she feels. 

“Get a room,” she shoos them off. “Just not mine.”

\---

They stumble into one of the many guest bedrooms at Thornhill, a tangle of limbs. She’s not sure how they even made it up the stairs, much less all the way into the guest corridors and into an unoccupied private room. All she really remembers and focuses on is the way that Jughead’s breath feels so hot against her neck as his tongue laves her delicate skin, no doubt leaving a mark. Her cat ears are long gone -- he pushed them off her head as he ran his hand through her hair while kissing her.

Everything about him feels like an inconsistency, it seems. He’s hard and then soft. Forceful and then gentle. Before tonight, she thought he was only interested in being her friend.

Judging by the way his hard length pokes into her stomach, she’s guessing he’s interested in a lot more than just friendship. She interweaves her fingers through his dark hair, surprised at how satiny the strands feel. She would’ve thought it’d be coarse but instead, it’s soft like silk. She tugs at it, smirking when she hears his surprised groan. Swallowing it with a deeper kiss, she runs her fingertips against his chest, clawing at him through the fabric of his t-shirt.

The alcohol is kicking in, lowering her inhibitions. She quiets her mind and decides to stop overthinking everything for once and just go with it. She lets her desires take over.

He grabs his shirt by the hem and pulls it over his head impatiently, breaking their kiss for a moment before he grabs her face once again, attacking her lips with his own. He bites, sucks, and nibbles and she loses herself in the hazy sensation. It’s only when her fingers graze over the bare skin of his muscled chest that she truly realizes what’s happening.

She’s making out with Jughead Jones -- the person that she’s had a stupid crush on for the last few years. He’s half-naked and they’re kissing. 

She pulls back suddenly, her green eyes searching his blue ones. The look on his face is a mixture of dazed content and longing. Maybe this crush isn’t as one-sided as she thought. It’s hard to tell with him -- he’s usually so hard to read.

His back is to the bed. Lifting her knee up, she pushes it into his abdomen. He falls back onto the bed, legs spread wide as she stands between them. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, her right hand comes down to her cleavage, pulling down the zipper, exposing her smooth, creamy breasts, bit by bit.

He makes a move to reach out and touch her and she slaps his hand away. The sudden sensation surprises him and he raises an eyebrow in question. Instead of answering him, she leans down, letting her body hover over his but not touching him. Then she undoes his belt and pulls it off of his jeans in one quick movement. She rolls it up in her hand and cocks her head to the side, a devious smile emerging.

“Truth or dare?” she asks, her voice picking up a teasing lilt.

“What?” he replies dumbly, confusion covering his handsome face.

“Truth or dare?” she repeats, pulling the belt tighter in her hand.

When Jughead doesn’t respond, she whips it against his knee, the hit light and playful. It surprises her as much as it surprises him. He jolts up in shock before a smile breaks out on his face. With his hands outspread on the bed, he leans back, his blue eyes gleaming.

“Truth,” he tells her.

“Why did you dress up as Batman?”

This question is clearly not what he expects. He pauses for a moment, looking down at the floor and not up at her. His fingers grip the duvet cover as he debates his answer.

“Veronica told me what your costume was going to be,” he finally says after a few moments.

“And?” Betty prompts. She tamps down her surprise and schools her face into a neutral expression.

“And,” he drawls out, “I thought it’d be a good excuse to talk to you if I dressed up as Batman. So, I borrowed a shirt from Reggie and here we are.”

Yup, this crush is definitely not as one-sided as she thought.

She presses her knee into the bed, inches away from his crotch before she unleashes the belt once again, whipping it against his thigh. A pleasured moan escapes his mouth as his eyes darken. She’s going to get the truth out of him one way or another.

“And why would you need an excuse to talk to me?" she continues her line of questioning.

He’s exposed, legs spread and raw underneath her. The power is a dizzying feeling and she likes it -- really, really likes it.

Jughead looks straight into her eyes, never wavering his gaze as he tells her intently, “Because I like you, Betty. I really like you, for a while now actually and I never knew how to tell you. I didn’t know if I was friend-zoned and trust me, Reggie is not the most helpful for helping to determine that. He just kept telling me to go for it and confess but that seemed entirely too daunting so I never did until tonight, until now.”

“You like me?” she repeats. Her brain receptors seem to have stopped firing and she’s tongue-tied at this revelation.

“Yeah,” he replies with a sweet smile. “I really like you.”

That’s all slightly-inebriated Betty needs to hear apparently. In the next instant, she drops the belt to the ground and crawls onto the bed, her body straddling his. His tongue pushes into her mouth and she savors the taste of him -- like peppermint gum mixed with the slight hoppiness of the beer he was drinking earlier. 

It’s not a combination that she would normally think she would like but on him, it’s rousing. 

Reaching his hand up he cups her cheek and smooths his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers reverently.

A smile tugs at her lips and she leans forward, trying to channel everything she can’t speak through the kiss. He pushes the top of her bodysuit off her shoulders so that it settles on her hips. He cups her breast through her bra and drags down the covering, his lithe fingers teasing her nipple. Dainty and pink, it puckers against his touch and he leans down, capturing it in his mouth.

Biting her lip, she throws her head back as she tries to stifle a moan. He continues to give his attention to her breast, alternating between his tongue swirling around her nipple, sucking and licking. She’s not the most sexually experienced, per se, but he makes her feel safe and comforted. His entire focus seems to be on giving her pleasure.

After a few moments, he flips them over so that her back is against the plush bed. Briefly, she thinks about how nice these sheets are -- red, of course and also silk. Classic Blossom family. A few giggles escape her mouth when she realizes just how stereotypical they are -- sneaking away at a party to drunkenly make out. It’s one of those high school experiences that she never thought she’d have but with Jughead, it doesn’t feel like that at all.

It’s just her. It’s just him. That’s all.

Between kisses, he breaks away begrudgingly and asks, “Can I touch you?”

She pulls back, her brows furrowing. “You are touching me.”

He flashes her a devious smile. “I think you know what I mean.”

Green eyes widening when it finally hits her, she nods eagerly. “Yes, please.”

Amusement covers his face at her politeness and he starts to tug down the rest of her bodysuit. After a few moments, she’s clad only in her bra and underwear while he is only wearing his black boxers.

He moves his hand to her stomach, his fingertips brushing against her soft and supple skin in small circles. 

She breathes in harshly, giggling. “That tickles.”

He keeps doing it before one finger slips under the fabric of her underwear and he starts to gently stroke her. 

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” he tells her honestly as he stares into her eyes.

“It’s okay. It feels good,” she encourages.

His touches are gentle and careful, like she’s made of fragile porcelain. He finds her clit after some exploring and rubs it, sending jolts down her spine. She moans loudly and bites her lower lip again.

“There,” she says simply.

He nods and continues to rub, as if focusing all his attention on it. Her cheeks tinge with pink as the pleasure builds and she spreads her legs wider, giving him more access as he continues to satisfy her. She tugs his head down so they can kiss and when he enters one finger into her, she moans again into his mouth.

“Oh god, Jug.” The words come out brokenly and she buries her face into his neck as he continues to pump his finger in and out of her. His scent drowns her and in a daze, her tongue slips out as she licks a thick stripe against his neck. He grunts in approval.

The room is so quiet, the noise from the party having died down. She can hear the sounds of him touching her against the still night and their breathless pants. His long, slim fingers slip in and out of her in a steady pace while his thumb rubs her clit. The sensation builds in her lower stomach before increasingly rising until she feels herself tumbling over the edge, his hand moving faster and faster. He works her through her orgasm and when she finally comes down, she blinks her eyes open hazily.

He brushes a strand out of her face and places a gentle kiss on her lips.

“That was really hot,” he tells her with a self-satisfied smirk. 

She stretches against him and presses her body up against his, her fingers dancing along his bare chest. “I’ve never been called that before,” she admits.

“What? Hot?” he asks incredulously.

At her nod, he shakes his head and kisses her again with so much care. 

“I’ll tell you every day, I promise.”


End file.
